


Bedtime Stories

by thewordweaves



Category: One Piece
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Gen Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-16
Updated: 2011-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-27 10:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewordweaves/pseuds/thewordweaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoro spends a night in the sick bay underneath Chopper's careful supervision after Thriller Bark.  In lieu of Usopp, he tells him a bedtime story (badly).  Shameless, shameless fluff within!  Written for a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedtime Stories

“I’m _fine_ , Chopper.”

“You are not! I forbid you from moving from this bed! Doctor’s orders.”

Zoro sighed, bringing one hand to his forehead and squeezing the bridge of his nose. Chopper always used the doctor’s orders excuse, if only because he knew Zoro did respect orders when they were given. Still, he was just itching to go train more. Kuma’s blast shouldn’t have hurt him that much, he should have been able to do something. He had to get stronger. He was too weak.

Only the faint snuffling sound coming from his right made him look up. He had expected the grinding of herbs, or the faint scuttling of the doctor grabbing various evil smelling substances from the drawer, but instead he was laying sheets on the table and rubbing furiously at his eyes.

“Chopper,” he said, “You should get some sleep.”

Chopper appeared to ignore him, and Zoro slowly realized that it wasn’t sleep that Chopper was wiping from his eyes. “Oi... what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, you bastard!” He wailed, fussing at the fabric and smoothing out a wrinkle that only he could see. Zoro didn’t insist that Chopper tell him, didn’t wheedle, didn’t yell, didn’t plead. He lay one hand on the wretched scar that had been newly carved across his stomach and waited.

The reindeer still didn’t turn around. “You could have died,” he said, quietly at first but voice quickly escalating into one of hysterics. “You were really badly hurt—really bad, Zoro. You could have died! And what sort of doctor would that make me?”

“But I didn’t. And I won’t.” It was fact, as far as Zoro knew. He didn’t know very much, not the gusts of wind or the way around a kitchen and hell, the badly stitched scar across his chest was living proof of how inept he was at healing. But he knew that Luffy was to be pirate king, he was to be the best swordsman in the world, and Chopper was a good doctor.

“You don’t know that.”

Zoro grinned at Chopper as he turned around, still looking down. “But I’m pretty sure.” He tried to hop off from his place, but Chopper panicked, screamed at the top of his lungs and waved at Zoro until he retreated once more.

“Don’t move!”

“Then you come to me.”

“Fine,” Chopper snapped, hopping up beside him. “Bastard.” Spotting Zoro’s expression from out of the corner of his mind, he muttered, “That doesn’t make me happy, you know.”

“I know. Why are you setting up sheets on the table?”

“I need to stay here to check your vitals.” Chopper looked up at Zoro and added on defensively, “Just as a precaution!”

And to stop him from using weights, Zoro added on mentally, but didn’t say anything. He’d never admit it but now, even he was too tired to do his regular training. Chopper hopped off once more and flicked off the lights. “Time for bed!” He announced. “Good night!”

For once in his life, Zoro couldn’t sleep. Not because he wasn’t tired, because the weariness struck him through the bone, but because he could still hear Chopper’s breathing, fretful and wide awake, the rustle of the sheets. He waited patiently for some time before speaking. “You’re not asleep.”

There was only a moment of hesitation. “I’m okay.”

Silence.

“Doesn’t Usopp usually tell you a story before you go to bed?”

Chopper’s voice was full of unease, and a strange sort of timidity that was rare. “Usually. He tells stories to everyone.”

Zoro sighed again. It really took somebody girly like Sanji or Usopp to deal with this sort of thing, but for now, he would have to do. “C’mere.” Chopper didn’t move so Zoro repeated himself, insistently this time. “C’mere, Chopper.”

This time Chopper slunk towards Zoro and hopped onto his bed as Zoro sat up, cross legged, and looked at the reindeer sitting across from him. “What sorts of stories does Usopp usually tell you?”

“You know,” he said accusingly. “You’ve listened too. Tales about... brave men of the sea. That stuff.”

“Huh. I can do that. It doesn’t sound too hard.” He closed his eyes. “Okay. Brave men of the sea.” He mentally shuffled through all of their foes and all the bounties he collected over the years, and found no examples besides the obvious: themselves. “There’s a brave swordsman out there. He travels the sea looking for enemies to slay.”

“For money?”

“For honour.” Hah! He was pretty good at this! “Then one day, he comes across a man who claims he’s the greatest, with a crew of his own.”

“Does he beat them?”

“Not alone. But he and his crew defeat them.”

There was more silence, punctuated by Chopper’s steady, expectant stare. “Nobody dies?”

“The other guys do."

“You’re a bad storyteller,” Chopper mumbled, yawning enormously. "Usopp's much better."

Zoro shrugged, then lay down. “But you got your story.” He noticed how Chopper didn’t seem to plan upon moving. “You can stay.”

Chopper smiled, but there was a frown in his voice. “I’m not scared, you know! And don’t think that this makes me—me--” his words were punctuated with a yawn “—happy.”

“Yeah,” Zoro said. “But I’m cold.” With that, he tugged the doctor into his chest, not leaving much room for argument. He never did. It only took a moment for Chopper’s breathing to slow and for quiet snoring to take its place. If anybody asked later – and nobody did – Zoro would deny smiling, but that didn’t change the fact that he did, laying his head on the pillow. “Stupid reindeer,” he said, with no actual heat.

Then he fell asleep, and this time, both were blessed with a slumber without images of blood and death and actions undone, regrets made because for now, both were safe. It wouldn’t last long – peace never did, on the Sunny – but it lasted long enough, and that was all they needed.


End file.
